Many a Needy and A Few Indifferent Fools

"Sir, please hold that bucket of water and pour some over that sapling the villagers planted over there.",    ordered the reporter. "Let' s do something at least", he added. Prasad looked at his manager and gave him a baffled look that said haven't we done enough already. The photo op, one of 2 things they were doing at the village today, had been on for the last 5 minutes. He and his colleagues were already missing the comforts of their AC cabins back in the office. He looked over to his friend a few meters away and said, "Come!! We are going to be on TV, and Mr. Reporter wants us to pour some water over these plants. We don't have a choice now. Do we?". Sarcasm had been flowing through his mouth all day. And so the act went on for a little over 5 minutes. Each still and video perfectly taken, the script  written 2 days before the act.

Brijesh, the manager reprimanded the village Sarpanch for not holding on to his side of the bargain. He was supposed to have the field cleaned up and ready for the photo op. "I asked you to have this cleaned before we arrived today. I can't ask these people to do the cleaning now. What if they fall sick?", he yelled. The Sarpanch's response was a muted bow of the head. What could he say. These people were supposed to help him alleviate the poverty from the village and he didn't want to let go of the little ray of hope that he could hold on to.

Ramullu was looking on from his fields. He was a boy of 12, a scrawny little fellow, deprived of food when these sahibs had first come to this godforsaken village some 150 kilometers from Hyderabad. He was a big fan of theirs too. What with all the prizes he won in the competitions organized by them. A host of trophies and medals had been lined up on his cardboard shelf in his parent's one room house. He would proudly show them off to all his friends. But all that had changed. He was now 21, built like a mule, toiling in the hot sun day after day as a farm laborer trying to make ends meet.  The trophies had been put away, they were of no use to him now. The scrap metal from it wouldn't even fetch him 5 rupees. His faith in the sahibs was  depleted by their inaction. The village had been the same for as long as he could remember. Just a few symbols had been erected here and there. The people were still poor. The schools still had no benches. The children still wore torn and tattered clothes and there were still no toilets in the entire village.

Rage boiled over him as he saw those few privileged educated faggots getting their moment of glory over the lost cause of the village. The government promised them so much. They didn't deliver. The local  panchayat stepped in, but they were too busy building their own houses and caring for their own wallets. The sahibs came next. They showed some promise but It didn't take long for it to change to tokenism and symbolism. The water purification plant was useful but everything else that came after was just a sham. School uniforms with big and ugly company logos, a bus stop, the annual Independence  Day competitions. It  was all just a gig to show to the world the growth they were seeing was inclusive, that they were giving back to society what they were taking out from it, a hypocritical parade of the good things they were claiming to do.

It had been the same scene year after year and no good had come out of it. A convoy of cars would come to a screeching halt. Sometimes they would bring a hot shot bike. They would step into the dusty country side to a heroes welcome. It didn't matter to them if they deserved it. Back in the office they were all normal people. To be welcomed like Icons gave their dented egos a boost. They would apply the most expensive sun screens to keep from getting tanned. Complain about the lack of basic amenities, eat, organize a couple of games that were popular with the locals and leave in the same convoy of cars they had come in.

How he wished he could just stand up against them and banish them from the village, his village. But he was a no body here. An ordinary man living a less than ordinary life, with a wife to care for and children to feed.